


30 Day Smut Challenge

by hanniballsohard



Series: 30 Day Smut Challenge [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Smut Challenge, 30 Days of Writing, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Naked Cuddling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanniballsohard/pseuds/hanniballsohard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So my friend challenged me, so here we go. Different pairings and fandoms throughout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	30 Day Smut Challenge

[Day 1: Naked cuddling]

 

Hannibal studied the face of his watch, willing the hour to end. Oblivious to Hannibal's impatience, Mason lay sprawled across the chaise lounge, prattling on once more about his revered  _Papa_.

"You know, doctor, last night I think I had a real  _epiphany_ about what's wrong with me," Mason said, his hands gesticulating theatrically above him.

"Oh?" Hannibal asked flatly. "Enlighten me."

Mason sat up, turning around to place his feet on the ground. His eyes wide and earnest, he pointed squarely at Lecter.

"I don't think I was loved enough," he proclaimed.

The corner of Hannibal's mouth twitched.

"Is that so?"

Mason raised a hand in defense and leaned back, crossing a leg over his knee.

"I know, I know. Poor little rich boy, right?" He barked a laugh. Hannibal did not join him. "But really, I mean hand on heart, I don't think- you know what it is? I don't think I was  _shown_ enough that I was loved. I mean, yes, Papa obviously loved me. I mean, right?  _Obviously_!"

He looked to Hannibal for reassurance. Hannibal merely nodded.

"Of course," he said. Mason beamed.

"But dammit, he never was one for affection, was Papa. No Sir! I think the closest he ever got was shaking my hand!" Another curt, obnoxious laugh. "Can you believe it? Shaking a goddamn kid's hand!"

He rose to his feet and began pacing leisurely. Hannibal watched him coolly, his eyes narrowing whenever Mason ran a finger along something of value.

"I think that might be why I act out the way I do," Mason offered.

"Are you referring to your sexual misconduct?" Hannibal asked, arching an eyebrow in mild amusement. Mason frowned.

"Well of course it sounds bad when you say it like that. Of course it does," he huffed. "But try see it my way, doctor. I'm just a sad little boy reaching out for affection. That's why I did those things to Margot. To feel like she really loved me!"

"And the children at the Summer camp? You wanted to feel loved by them?"

Mason looked down at his feet, chuckling with mock-bashfulness.

"Well I guess that's maybe where my theory develops some holes, doctor."

Hannibal placed his notebook to one side, crossing his hands over his lap.

"So why did you choose to reveal this epiphany to me today, Mason?"

Mason looked up, grinning once more. He slowly sauntered across to the doctor, practically dancing with exuberance.

"I'm  _glad_ you asked! Boy, am I glad!" he exclaimed. "Doctor, are you well-versed in the practice of touch therapy?"

Hannibal struggled not to roll his eyes.

"I'm afraid not, Mason. Sadly my expertise do not stretch quite so far."

Mason frowned in concentration, momentarily disappointed. 

"I'm sure it doesn't matter. From what I've read of it, it sounds very straight-forward."

With that he stooped at Hannibal's lap, and began to fiddle with the end of the doctor's tie. Hannibal tensed, looking down at Mason with barely-veiled repulsion.

"Mason-"

"You see, you - my therapist - and I - that is, me - shed all our clothes, and embrace. It's really quite simple."

Mason began removing his own blazer, loosening his tie.

"The  _real_ fun, however, is that I get to pretend you're whoever I want, and you have to give  _me_ the affection I require to cure me."

Mason removed his tie hastily, almost knocking his glasses from his face, and began to unbutton his shirt.

"So c'mon, doc! Hop to it!"

Hannibal ran a hand from behind his neck to his jaw, inhaling deeply. Mason's shirt was now strewn across the ground, crumpled beside his tie and blazer.

"Mason, I will ask you kindly to dress yourself. This is not a service I provide."

Mason stood up briskly; topless, red-faced and indignant.

"Well then what the hell am I paying you for?" he demanded, pouting like a child. "I've got people working for me that could dig up all kinds of dirt on you, Dr. Lecter. Just give me a reason. Now are we gonna cuddle or what?"

Hannibal sighed in resignation. It really wasn't worth it. Without another word, he stood up and began to loosen his tie.

"Wait!" cried Mason. "Let me."

"Fine," Hannibal replied. 

Mason fiddled with the tie, giddy as a schoolboy. The tie removed, he began unbuttoning Hannibal's waistcoat.

"Am I good, Papa?" Mason giggled, parting the waistcoat and starting on Hannibal's shirt buttons.

"Yes, Mason. You're a very good boy. You're my good boy," Hannibal droned.

Mason slid his hands around Hannibal's waist and placed his cheek against the older man's exposed chest.

"And do you love me, Papa?"

Keeping his face to Hannibal's chest, his breath moistening the flesh beneath it, he began to unbuckle Hannibal's belt. Beginning to become amused by the absurdity of the situation, Hannibal smirked.

"Yes, Mason. I love you very much."

Mason audibly squealed with pleasure. He stepped back in order to yank down Hannibal's slacks and boxers, before ridding himself of his own.

"Take of your shoes and hurry up," he snapped, struggling with his own laces. "I don't want the moment to pass."

Hannibal complied and, once fully nude, sat down once more in his chair. Mason, removing a sock, eyed him with confusion and annoyance. Before he could protest, Hannibal patted his own thigh, beckoning to him.

"Come sit on my lap," he offered.

Mason's expression brightened once more, and he scrambled over to perch atop Hannibal's knee. He draped his arms over Hannibal's shoulders, his fingers tickling the back of the doctor's neck before weaving themselves into the silken tresses of his hair. He pressed his face against Hannibal's, closing his eyes serenely.

"Now put your hands around me," he whispered sharply. "Show me that you love me, Papa.  _Show_ me."

Hannibal placed a hand firmly on Mason's ass, another under the crook of his knee, and hoisted him closer.

"Papa!" Mason giddily exclaimed as Hannibal's hands grabbed and stroked at his bare skin. Mason nuzzled into Hannibal's neck, and clutched him tighter. "Thank you."


End file.
